


Proposal Ring

by eikyuuyuki



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Misunderstandings, Post BoFA, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 07:50:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3439337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eikyuuyuki/pseuds/eikyuuyuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin had a gift for Thranduil as the proof of his love towards the Elven King.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proposal Ring

**Author's Note:**

> This is (kind of) prequel to my Valentine fic for Thorinduil. Please forgive my poor English as this is the first time ever I’ve written something this long in English which is not school assignment.
> 
> Thank you so much for my beta GreenJewel :">
> 
> This fic is dedicated to my talented little sister Jay, who drew me the ring which inspired me to write this fic.

From the day Mirkwood Elves left the Dwarves of Erebor to their tragic fate onwards, Thorin had been living in a mixture of feelings. At first, he only felt angry and betrayed. The young Prince had expected so much from the ally with the Elves that he was devastated when Thranduil turned his back on him. He didn’t understand why and he didn’t bother to find out so he came to the conclusion that what he had been told about the Elves were all true. They are treacherous creature.

 

During his exile, which was long and hard, there’s no single night Thorin wasn’t haunted by the dream in which Thranduil smiled softly at him. Then, suddenly the Elf’s smile turned dark. He stood on the high hill, looked down at the Dwarf and smirked as if they deserved the destruction. Thorin wake up, breathing hard, feeling deep pain in his chest. There’s small part of him telling Thorin that the pain didn’t only come from resentment but also from something else that he couldn’t identify. And he didn’t have time to do so as his grandfather died, following the disappearance of his father left him to the responsibility of leading his people to their new home. His mind was occupied with their needs, their welfare. It was good at one point cause it allowed him to sleep without dreaming. The image of Thranduil was pushed further and deeper into his memory.

 

Then, they reached Ered Luin and settled there. Though Thorin didn’t like living near the Elves, he had no choice but to accept the help from Lord Círdan of Lindon. However, later he realized that the Elf Lord was different from those elves he had met. Círdan was older and wiser and surprisingly funny. Thorin came to like the Elf more than he admitted. Because of this new-found friendship,nonetheless, his memory was stirred once again.

 

Thranduil reappeared in his dream, yet instead of feeling enraged, Thorin felt himself longing to touch his enemy. He was hurt deeply that day, but not because Thranduil had broken their ally but because Thranduil had broken his heart.

 

If Thorin had to give a name for their relationship with the Elven King, he couldn’t find one. They had shared their bed many times, in ways Thorin hadn’t known he was capable of doing. This only didn’t make them lover, did it? There were only desire and primal need between them, and if there had been, by any chance, deeper affection from Thranduil, Thorin wouldn’t have been sensitive enough to spot out.

 

Balin once said so and that led Thorin to confusion. He first denied it with disbelieving look and angry voice. He claimed his friend to be mad. But later, when he was calmer, Thorin decided to solve this once for eternity. Therefore, he spent hours and days thinking about the subject, asking himself one question: “Does he love Thranduil?” Finally, the answer came to him in an unexpected way.

 

A group of elves was attacked by orcs when they travelled to the East for trading business. Only one came back with deadly wounds. The horse that carried the elf ran through the village of the Dwarf, locating outside the door to Lindon. The Dwarves took him in and tended for his wounds but he had lost his consciousness and only mumbled one Elvish word which Thorin thought was a name. He immediately sent word to Lord Círdan and soon the Elf arrived with his guard and a young maid. The she-elf walked to the wounded elf with tear on her cheeks. Her fingers ran on the deformed body. She pressed her forehead on the elf’s and whispered in Elvish. The elf tried to move his hand but before he could reach her face, he stopped breathing. The she-elf hold the body and scream. Her cry was so painful that it made Thorin’s heart itch. He looked at Círdan, frowned then asked: “What did she say?”

 

 

“She was begging the Valar to take her life too, Master Dwarf.” Círdan said in sad voice.

 

“Why?” Thorin asked in surprise.

 

“We, Elves, treasure our heart and soul beyond everything, Master Thorin. Because it’s so delicate and easily broken. When it does, it take the will to live from us, and that means we’re dead from that day.”

 

 

With that answer, Thorin was speechless. He looked at the poor couple and suddenly the image of Thranduil lying there, covered in blood just like the elf appeared before his eyes. He felt fright creeping into his heart. Once Thorin wished the Elven King would perish in flame. Once he had no pleasure but to witness the death of that betrayed Elf. But now that thought made him shiver.

 

Would he be satisfied if Thranduil died? No. Just the thought of Thranduil lying cold on the ground was enough to hurt him more than what the Elf had done on the hill that day. The answer was now clear to him. Thorin had loved Thranduil and loved him still.

 

This realization didn’t end his misery but put him in another predicament as he didn’t know if Thranduil had the same feeling for him? This question he couldn’t answer by himself. Then, the chance came to him. He was given the key to the secret door of Erebor. Though they were doing good in Ered Luin but to Thorin and most of the Dwarves, Erebor would always be their home. It had forever been a longing call in their heart to came back and reclaimed what were theirs. And now, Thorin had another reason to take on the quest back to the mountain. He had a question to ask and a gift to give the Elven King. A gift he had spent days in the forges to make. He almost successfully gave it to Thranduil if it wasn’t for the pride of the King and the blindness of the Dwarf. Or it was their fate to only understand each other when everything was too late.

 

No one had expected the quest to Erebor would end like this. They had thought of damage and lost but the reality was too much to be called tragedy. Thorin had successfully took back his kingdom but the history of Middle-Earth would not remember his long reign cause now he was lying in the deepest part of Erebor.

 

After the funeral, Balin had a private talk with the Elven King. The old dwarf hesitated for a while before showing Thranduil a small bag. Thranduil took it with his cold and empty look. He untied and tossed it up side down. A ring fell into his open hand. A silver ring adorned with a blue sapphire that reflected the color of his eyes. It wore a pattern that is identical for both the race of Elf and Dwarf. The rough and straight lines of the Dwarf intertwined with the thin and wavy, tree-like lines of the Elf. Thranduil looked at it, startled.

 

 

“He intended to give you this… as a proof of his feeling for you… He was down, King Thranduil… for what you’d said back in your palace. He thought you hold no feeling for him but despite so he threw it away…” Balin stuttered. His face shown deep great regret, not for him but his King.

 

 

Thranduil then picked up the ring with trembling hand. He pursed his lips in an attempt to suppress any feeling he was having now. The Elven King remembered the meeting with Thorin in his throne room, the disappointed look in the dwarf’s eyes. How foolish he was?

 

 

“But… but I don’t think you mean it… to hurt him like that… So I kept this… I planned to persuade Thorin after the battle...” Balin stopped, wiped away the tear in his eye. “Well, we all know how it turns out… but please King Thranduil, am I wrong about you? Am I wrong about your feeling towards him?”

 

 

Thranduil could not say anything but looked down at the ring and there he saw the writing carved inside.

 

AMRALIMÊ

 

It was one more drop to an already full cup. Thranduil could not hold back anymore. He closed his hands around the ring, pressed it tight to his chest and burst out. For hundreds of years he had never showed anyone his weakness, his true feeling. He was too proud to let anyone know that vulnerable side of him. Even if it was Thorin. And now he had to live with the regret of not telling Thorin that he was sorry for his lost, of not explaining everything to him, and most importantly, for not telling the dwarf that he loved him. He cried for how long he couldn’t remember, until his throat was hurt and his eyes were dry. Then, he put on the ring, kissed it gently and said in Elvish.

 

_“My heart stays with you Thorin till you come back to this world. Until then, rest in peace.”*_

 

 

 

 End.

 *Let’s pretend that this italic sentence is Elvish as I can’t speak it.


End file.
